thy feet. Put not out thy hand too soon. Let the wind do its work."

And the Duke made reply:

"As thou thinkest, so think I. And there is but one wind in the halls
of heaven that can waft the fruit to the feet of another."

"And that?" asked the Lombard.

"Is the wind that blows from the shores of Ireland, when it fills the
sails of Harold, son of Godwin."

"Thou fearest that man, and why?" asked the Lombard with interest.

And the Duke answered:

"Because in the breast of Harold beats the heart of England."